


Rubies Are A Boy's Best Friend

by velvetjinx



Series: Rubies [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chris is an FBI Agent, M/M, Shameless Smut, little bit of violence but not much, sebastian is an international jewel thief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 15:32:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8332936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetjinx/pseuds/velvetjinx
Summary: When FBI Agent Chris Evans is tasked to lead a team to catch the suspected international jewel thief Sebastian Stan, he's determined to get his man. Things, however, never really run to plan, do they?





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I had this idea yesterday morning on the train and started to write it on my commute. ~10k words and two days later and it's DONE. 
> 
> Thanks a billion to Ria who told me the idea didn't suck and cheerleaded (cheerled?) me through it. You are genuinely awesome.

Chris sits at his desk, trying not to twiddle his thumbs. He'd finished all of his paperwork for the last case he had been working on about half an hour ago and things were pretty quiet at the moment so, yeah. He's feeling pretty bored. 

As he pretends to work, a new email pings into his inbox. He looks at the email, smiling. A new meeting request for two pm labelled as "priority"? Well that sounds like it could be interesting. He checks the time - quarter to two. Excellent. He can start for the meeting room now via the kitchen for a fresh cup of coffee. 

He's not the only one with this idea, it seems - Agents Mackie and Johansson are already in the kitchen, speculating about what the meeting might be about. 

"It's probably about how bad the coffee is here," Mackie laughs, and Johansson rolls her eyes. 

"It would hardly be high priority, then, would it?"

"I don't know - the coffee is definitely bad enough."

"And yet you still manage to drink about fifteen cups a day."

"What can I say? I need my caffeine fixes."

Chris takes his coffee, leaving the two agents to their good natured banter, and goes into the meeting room, scoring a desk in the middle where he's less likely to draw attention to himself. Up the front you're fair game, down the back they keep an eye on you because they assume you're a troublemaker, but the middle: that's the place to hang out. 

Other agents are filing into the room now, and Agent Renner flops down into the chair next to him with a grin. 

"Gotta love an unexpected afternoon meeting when you've got miles of paperwork to do, am I right, Evans?"

Chris laughs. "Except some of us aren't so behind in our paperwork, Renner, and have actually finished it in time."

"Teacher's pet," Renner whispers out the corner of his mouth as Assistant Director Jackson enters the room, scanning their faces with narrowed eyes. The room falls silent immediately, everyone paying attention. Jackson looks pissed, which is never a good sign. He's a great AD, but not the kind of guy you want to get on the wrong side of. 

"Five jewel heists," Jackson begins, as a picture show starts up on the screen behind him of beautiful jewels and different places. "Five years. Five locations around the world. All of them unique, but for one detail: a small Stars and Stripes pin left behind in place of the jewels. This detail has never been released to the press, so we know there's not a copycat. International law enforcement has been in the dark, until now. Recent intel leads us to believe that all of these heists are the work of one man."

Jackson nods to his assistant, who changes the picture to a candid shot of a guy. Chris's eyes widen. The guy in the photograph is seriously hot, and while Chris tells himself internally to get a grip, that this guy is a potential international felon, part of him is taking in the short dark hair, the wide blue eyes, the high cheekbones and chiselled jaw. 

"This is Sebastian Stan," Jackson is saying, and Chris snaps his attention away from the photograph back to the AD. "A Romanian born US citizen - grew up in New York. Dad died before he moved to the US, mom brought him up single handed. Graduated Columbia University, now earns six figures as a financial consultant, which takes him all over the world. Our intel shows that he was on the spot at the time of every one of these heists."

Jackson eyes them all one by one. "Now these were not small operations that were burgled. These were all protected by top-of-the-range security. To be frank, we have no idea how he got past most of it. Point is, this guy is smart. He's calculating. Most of all, he's a risk taker. Security is so tight at these locations there was a good chance of him getting caught, but he still went for it, and I think that's his weakness - he's got to be pretty cocky. Overconfidence gets people caught time and time again. We've all seen it. Stan lives in LA, which is why we've been asked to be the office to deal with the investigation. Evans," he barks suddenly, and Chris jumps to attention. 

"Yes, sir?"

"You're lead on this. Gather a team. And don't screw this up."

"Yes, sir," Chris responds, fighting down the anxiety he feels. He's taken the lead on investigations in the past, but never one this big. In a way he's pleased; it shows that the AD has faith in his abilities. On the other hand, however, if he does screw it up it'll probably cost him his job. 

Shit. 

***

The case file is on his desk when he gets back, and he flicks through it briefly, before settling in to read it properly. There are a few surveillance shots of Stan in the file, and in one of them he's laughing with a man who has his back to the camera. His whole face is brightened by the expression and he's so fucking gorgeous Chris has to take a moment. 

He curses at himself under his breath. _Get a grip!_ he tells himself sternly. There's no way he should be thinking about how good looking this guy is when he's the lead suspect in such an important investigation. If the AD found out... Chris swallows hard at the thought, before flipping past the photos of Stan to his profile. Age: thirty four, a year younger than Chris is. Place of birth, parents' names, blah blah blah. Previous partners... Chris blinks and reads the section again. Dotted among the women's names are names that are definitely men's. Well, that's just brilliant. Apparently he's bi, which is just...not something Chris needed to know. 

Someone clears their throat above him, and he looks up to see Agent Mackie grinning at him. 

"So you're picking me for the team, right, Evans?"

Chris gives him a look. "I've not even finished reading the case file, Mackie, give me a break."

"Yeah, but I mean...you are picking me for the team, right?"

Chris sighs and wonders how to make Mackie go away. Clearly that's not going to happen until Chris gives him an answer, but Chris had always planned on having Mackie on the team - he's a great agent, and Chris knows he can count on him in a crisis - so he nods. Mackie does a little fistpump. 

"Knew I could count on you, man. Who else are you picking?"

Chris sighs. "I haven't decided yet, okay?"

"Well you'd better act fast. Word is AD Jackson wants movement on this ASAP."

Great. "Thanks for the heads up. Can I read my case file now?" 

"Yeah, yeah, you do your homework. Man, this is gonna be great. An international jewel thief! Best case _ever_." Mackie walks off back to his desk, and Chris sighs. He'd better choose a team fast by the sounds of things if he's going to stay in AD Jackson's good books. 

In the end he chooses Johansson, Renner, Ruffalo and Downey in addition to Mackie. When he goes to Jackson to discuss the team he's picked, Jackson gestures for him to sit down. 

"I've just been told that this has gotten a bit more serious," Jackson says, and Chris's heart sinks into the pit of his stomach. "The Burmese ruby bracelet from the Smithsonian is going to be on loan to the Getty Center for six months, and we've been warned that the jewel thief might strike again. There's been some chatter on the black market about it, and it's got everyone antsy. Word is that if something is going to happen it's going to be pretty soon. Keep Stan under surveillance twenty-four-seven over the next few weeks, got it? If he's innocent then he's innocent, but I've got a gut feeling this is our guy."

"Yes, sir. We won't let him out of our sight."

"I know I can count on you, Evans. And that's a good team you've picked. I know you've worked well together in the past and I know you'll do your best this time around too. You're a good agent, and I know you won't disappoint me." The "or else" is unspoken, but it still hangs in the air, and Chris gulps and nods. 

"Okay. Get out of here and brief your team. I expect you to start surveillance ASAP."

"Yes, sir."

Chris leaves Jackson's office, his head reeling. This is no longer about just solving a case - this is about preventing a crime from taking place, which is considerably harder. Chris doesn't pray often, but he prays right now - that he's up to the challenge. 

He briefs the team in one of the smaller meeting rooms, then sends Johansson and Downey out to do the first surveillance shift. Once the room clears, he gathers up his paperwork slowly. He takes it back to his desk, locks it in one of his desk drawers, and heads home. If he's going to make anything of this case he's going to need his rest. 

***

The first couple of days are pretty quiet on the surveillance front. They rotate in twelve hour shifts, but Stan doesn't seem to be doing anything out of the ordinary. They're monitoring his calls and emails, but most of them seem to be to do with his consulting business. There are a couple of calls to his mother, where he speaks a mash up of Romanian and English, and they've got their language guys working on those but Chris doubts they're anything to do with the case. 

Stan leaves his house to go grocery shopping on the second day. They follow him, but he doesn't appear to have any contact with anyone. 

Then, on the third day while Chris is on surveillance duty with Mackie, he leaves the apartment again. He ends up at a coffee shop about half a mile from his apartment, and they watch from afar as Stan greets a blond guy who is sitting at a table outside. Stan goes inside for a few minutes, then comes back out clutching a coffee, before sitting across from the man. 

Mackie takes photos of the two of them as Chris watches them closely. They don't exchange anything, so it's clearly not a drop, but they clearly know each other pretty well, judging by their body language. The other guy is pretty handsome too, in a rugged kind of way, with short hair and a well kept beard. 

They're there for well over an hour, and Chris listens to their conversation on one of the many bugs they've planted in Stan's personal effects. The other guy has an accent - Chris thinks he might be Australian. They seem to be talking about inconsequential things - Stan's work, the other guy's pet cat - then suddenly the other guy asks Stan if he's seen the new museum exhibit at the Getty Center. Chris's ears prick up as Stan replies that he intends to see it soon, that he's heard it's good. The other guy nods, and then they're talking about a recent soccer match, but Chris and Mackie exchange a glance. Jackson's hunch seems to be proving true: looks like Stan might just be their guy. 

Eventually Stan leaves the coffee shop, hugging the other guy goodbye before setting off back to his apartment. When Chris and Mackie return to their surveillance base, an empty apartment across the road from Stan's place, they email the photos back to the office to see if the guy shows up in any records. 

Half an hour later Chris's phone rings. 

"Yeah?"

"Evans? It's Johansson. We've had a hit on that guy Stan met with."

"Already?"

"Yeah. Apparently he's an Australian called Chris Hemsworth, but he's believed to be a well known fence, code name 'Thor'. There's not enough evidence for a conviction, but he's believed to have had his finger in the pies of many of the most recent high profile thefts. If Stan was meeting with him..."

Johansson doesn't even have to finish her sentence. Chris is pretty sure now that if something is going to go down, it'll be soon. 

***

The problem is that Stan is doing nothing out of the ordinary for a single guy in his thirties. He goes grocery shopping, works hard, watches trashy TV in the evenings, drinks some beer, and calls his mom like a good boy. If he hadn't met with that Hemsworth guy then Chris would be certain they were on the wrong track. 

On Thursday night, Stan goes to bed at his usual time. Chris watches his closely as he puts on his laundry and washes his dishes, then goes into his bedroom. But instead of closing his curtains, Stan just pulls off his shirt, then starts walking around the apartment half naked, and Chris swallows, trying not to give anything away to Mackie as he stares openly at Stan's muscled torso. Everything is well defined: his pectorals, his abs, his hipbones... Chris thinks for a moment about licking those hipbones before reigning his thoughts in. 

Stan goes back through to his bedroom, and Chris could swear that, just for a moment, Stan looked straight up at him. Stan couldn't have seen him, but it still gives Chris a jolt. Then Stan is closing the curtains with a small smile, an Chris can only imagine him fully stripping off, and what he would look like completely naked. He nips that thought in the bud quickly, giving himself a mental shake. 

They watch the apartment but there's no sign of movement until Stan's alarm goes off at six the next morning. While they're following him on his morning run, Chris's phone rings. When he sees AD Jackson come up on the caller ID he curses before answering. 

"Sir?"

"What the fuck, Evans? I thought you were supposed to be watching Stan?"

"We've had eyes and ears on him all night, sir. He hasn't gone anywhere all night."

"Well something is screwed up, then, because the Burmese ruby bracelet was stolen from the Getty Center last night. Experts have no idea how the burglar got past their security system, and there was a Stars and Stripes pin in the case instead of the bracelet when the guard went round to check it this morning."

Chris feels sick. "Well, sir, Stan must be in the clear because I'd be willing to swear that he didn't move for the entire night."

"Either he's innocent or he's smarter than all of us. But I think his meeting with Hemsworth is enough to get a warrant to search his apartment for the bracelet. I suggest that when your shift is over you go home and get changed, pick up the warrant, and go search his apartment."

"Won't that let him know that we're onto him?"

"At this stage it doesn't matter, Evans. The bracelet has already been stolen, and now we just have to get it back."

"Yes, sir. Our shift is over in half an hour. I'll contact the team to let them know we'll be searching Stan's apartment once we've got the warrant."

"Do that. I think we underestimated this guy, which is never a good idea, but what's done is done. We just need to concentrate on getting that bracelet back now. Keep me informed of how it goes."

"I will, sir."

He hangs up the phone and lets loose a long string of curses. When Mackie looks at him questioningly, he sighs. 

"The bracelet is gone. When our shift is over we leave, change, and go get a warrant to search his apartment."

"But the guy didn't go anywhere last night?"

"That's what we think, but if he's as smart as we think he is I'm pretty sure he could've got out without us seeing him."

"Maybe." Mackie doesn't sound convinced, and to be fair Chris isn't either. How could he possibly have left without them seeing or hearing him?

When Ruffalo and Downey arrive for their shift, Chris updates them on the situation. 

"If - _when_ \- we get a warrant, I'll call you guys and you can meet us outside the apartment."

"Do you really think we'll find anything?" Downey asks, looking sceptical, and Chris shrugs. 

"If he's that smart then I doubt it, but it's what the boss wants so we've got to at least try."

Ruffalo and Downey nod in agreement, and Chris and Mackie leave to go and get changed. Chris is pretty sure that if he's going to bother a judge at seven am he'd better be wearing a suit. 

***

 

He manages to get the warrant, despite the judge's reservations that the only evidence they have is a conversation with a suspected fence and the fact he's always been in the wrong place at the right time, partly because this is pretty high profile and the judge knows they have to follow every lead they can. He then calls each member of the team to let them know they'll be meeting at Stan's apartment at nine am. He asks Downey and Ruffalo to report on Stan's movements when he calls, and they tell him that after his morning run and shower Stan went straight back to bed. 

Chris's ears prick up at that. It's a deviation in his routine, and deviations - however small - are pretty suspicious. 

The team meets outside Stan's apartment building at five to the hour before heading up to Stan's door. Chris takes a deep breath, steeling himself, before knocking loudly. 

The door opens after a few moments, and Chris gets his first up close look at this guy who's been pretty much haunting his dreams since he first saw a photograph. 

"Can I help you?" Stan asks. His hair is mussed, like he just got out of bed ( _or just got fucked,_ Chris's brain adds unhelpfully), he's dressed in a baggy tshirt and sweatpants that hang low on his hips, and his feet are bare. Chris has never wanted to kiss anyone more in his life. He clears his throat. 

"Mr Stan? I'm Special Agent Evans of the FBI," Chris says, flashing his badge. "We believe there may be stolen goods on the premises and have obtained a warrant to allow us to look."

"Oh, sure. Feel free to search my apartment," Stan says, looking amused. 

"Well, that's just what this warrant allows us to do, Mr Stan," Chris responds, trying to remain professional. 

"Oh, well, if you have a _warrant_..." Stan is looking at him, all wide eyed innocence, no hint of the sarcasm which colours his tone, and Chris is torn between punching him and pushing him against the nearest wall so he can kiss him breathless. Instead, he does neither, just nodding at Stan before leading his team inside the apartment. 

As they search, Stan watches them, that amused look never leaving his face. _He knows we're not going to find anything,_ Chris thinks suddenly. _That's why he's so cocky. He stole it but it's hidden somewhere._

When Chris leaves the team searching the living room to go through to the bedroom to begin his search, Stan follows him through, watching him as he goes through his wardrobe. But when Chris goes to look in his bedside cabinet, Stan clears his throat. 

"I, uh, I don't think you really want to go in there."

"We have to search everywhere, Mr Stan," Chris says sternly, before opening the top drawer and immediately flushing. 

Lube. Condoms. A cock ring. Nipple clamps. Handcuffs. It's basically Chris's wet dream come to life and his mouth goes dry even as he tries to will his cheeks back to their normal colour. 

"I did try to warn you," Stan grins, and Chris narrows his eyes. 

"We're professionals, Mr Stan. This," he gestures towards the drawer, "isn't going to bother us."

"Oh really?" Stan retorts, coming up to stand in front of Chris, close enough that Chris would only have to lean forward slightly to kiss him. "Because you look pretty bothered to me." Stan looks at him searchingly, before bringing a hand up to clasp Chris's bicep. "And to be honest, seeing you all hot and bothered? It's kind of turning me on." Chris's eyes widen and Stan gives his arm a squeeze, before laughing. "Jesus, Agent Evans, I'm guessing you work out a lot. Your muscles are huge. And I'll bet that's not the only part of you that is." Stan looks him up and down, heat in his gaze, and Chris clears his throat. 

"This conversation is inappropriate," he says hoarsely, wanting to step back, away from Stan, but completely unable to move. 

"Hmm, but aren't inappropriate conversations the best kind?" Stan asks, his gaze sultry as he moves even further into Chris's personal space. 

"You realise this could be seen as trying to impede our investigation?" Chris manages, and Stan lets go of his arm, stepping back with his hands in the air. 

"Well, far be it from me to impede an official investigation. I'm just saying that, well, it's a pity we had to meet like this and not under more amenable circumstances. Mostly because I'd love to see what you looked like naked and writhing under me."

Chris feels his cock twitch at that and takes a deep breath. "Mr Stan, feel free to stay in here and watch me if you want, but please refrain from making any more inappropriate comments. I'm trying to do my job, here." That comes out a lot more pleading than he'd meant it to, but something clearly gets through to Stan because he nods and goes to stand by the door in silence while Chris completes his search of the bedroom. 

It takes them a total of two hours to search the entire apartment, but there's nothing there, as Chris expected. They tap on all the walls and furniture looking for hidden openings, but there's nothing. The place is completely clean; either that or Stan's hiding places are just too good. 

Chris can tell they're all feeling pretty downhearted when they leave, but as the rest of the team troops out he stops in front of Stan. 

"Well, thank you for your cooperation, Mr Stan, and I'm very sorry to have troubled you." It's a lie, of course - they both know he's guilty as hell. 

Stan just smiles at him. "Oh, you can trouble me any time, Agent Evans," he says, his tone practically a purr, and Chris has to get out of there. He automatically sticks his hand out, and Stan grasps it, shaking it firmly. "I hope you find whoever you're looking for," he says, his tone serious, but it's so blatantly untrue that Chris can barely keep a straight face. 

"Well, thank you again for your time, Mr Stan," Chris says, and escapes outside to where the team are waiting. He sends Downey and Ruffalo back to surveillance duties and gets in his car to go into the office so he can report to AD Jackson. He knows the AD isn't going to be happy, and prays he'll still have his balls by the end of the report. 

***

Jackson is surprisingly resigned that they didn't find anything, almost like he hadn't expected them to. When Chris asks him about this, he sighs. 

"To be honest, Evans, I didn't. This guy is too smart to put any stolen goods where we could find them."

"But we didn't even find anything incriminating! Not even tools he might have used to bypass a high-tech security system. He must be keeping those somewhere too."

Jackson nods. "Which is why we've got to keep eyes on Stan - he'll have to get rid of the goods at some point. And when the drop happens, we're going to have to be there."

Chris nods. "So that's our next move? Just keep him under surveillance until we catch him in the act?" 

Jackson eyes him thoughtfully. "You got any other suggestions?"

Chris shrugs. "We could send someone in undercover as a buyer?"

Jackson shakes his head. "We wouldn't be able to get Stan that way. For one, I'm pretty sure he would notice straight away it was a set up, and for another I doubt he's selling this stuff himself. Not if he's talking to Hemsworth. Who would also clock anyone we sent in undercover straight away. It's been tried before." Jackson sighs. "To be honest, I'd rather get Hemsworth than Stan. Stan might be stealing the goods, but Hemsworth is the one putting it all on the black market, and from what I understand he can be pretty ruthless. People who mess with him tend to go missing."

Chris nods. "Okay. We'll keep doing what we're doing and hope that we catch Stan in the act." 

"Good. And Evans?" Jackson adds as Chris turns to walk out the door. "Good luck. I have a feeling you're going to need it."

Despite Jackson's understanding of the situation, Chris leaves his office feeling worse than when he went in. He feels like he's failing at his job, even though it's no fault of his, but he hates feeling like that. 

Sighing, he goes back to his desk to try and do some paperwork, but he can't forget the things Stan said to him, or the look in his eyes when he said them. He's suddenly hit with a mental image of Stan on his knees, clamps on his nipples and ring around his cock, ready to take Chris into his mouth...

Chris takes some deep breaths, trying to will away his sudden erection. Fuck. He's in way over his head, but there's no backing out now. 

***

While Chris and Mackie are watching Stan the following day, he takes a trip to the grocery store. As they wait outside, Mackie opens the car door. 

"Where the hell are you going?" Chris hisses. 

"Gotta take a leak, man. Just popping to the coffee shop. I'll be back before you know it."

"Well hurry up," Chris grumbles. 

Mackie has only been gone a minute when a sudden knock on the window of the car makes Chris jump, and he looks out, only to see Stan standing there, a grin on his face. Sighing, Chris rolls the window down. 

"Hey there, Agent Evans!" Stan greets him. "Just wanted to make sure you were good out here and didn't need anything?"

"Mr Stan-"

"It's Sebastian, please!"

"Mr Stan," Chris says firmly. "I am fine, thank you, and..."

"I shouldn't know you're here? Or I shouldn't be talking to you?"

Chris sighs. "Both."

Stan rolls his eyes. "Okay, so, you following me everywhere is kind of a pain in the ass, and I'm sure it's no fun for you, so I need to ask you something. Off the record."

"I'm listening," Chris replies hesitantly. He probably shouldn't be listening to this, but oh hell. 

"So, theoretically, if the thing you're looking for was returned, would you get off my back?"

"Theoretically? No. There were other robberies."

"Hmm," Stan hums thoughtfully. "But theoretically it would help, right?"

"Theoretically, yeah, it probably wouldn't hurt."

Stan nods. "That's interesting to know." He pauses, then smiles again. "So, Agent Evans, can I call you by your first name? Agent Evans seems so formal."

"No."

"You wound me," Stan says dryly. "And here I thought we were close."

"You're a felon, and I'm..."

"In the FBI, yeah, yeah. Also I'm only a suspected felon since you can't pin anything on me, right?"

"Yet."

Stan laughs. "You know what? I like you, man. You're funny. And you're hot as hell, which just makes me want to take you home and fuck you, but you've already vetoed that, so. All right. I'll leave you to your 'surveillance'-" Stan uses air quotes "-and I'll see you later, Chris."

He walks off, and it isn't until Mackie returns that it occurs to Chris to wonder how the hell Stan knew his name. 

They follow Stan back to his house, watch him eat his lunch, then he goes into his bedroom. Chris sees him smirk out the window, then closes the curtains. Mackie leaves on a coffee run at that moment, and Chris is glad he does, because Chris hears a wet sound, followed by moaning and the unmistakable noise of Stan's hand on his cock. 

Chris can picture it in his mind's eye - Stan lying on the bed, not even having bothered to strip off, his jeans and underwear pushed down far enough that he can stroke his cock and play with his balls. 

"Chris," he hears, and his cock immediately starts to harden. "Mmm, fuck, Agent Evans, oh god. Yeah, touch me like that, want to see you on your knees sucking me. Want to fuck your pretty ass, then I want you inside me, bet you're a great fuck." 

Chris can't believe what he's hearing, but he's so turned on by the thought of Stan touching himself while moaning his name that he doesn't stop to think, just undoes his pants and sticks his hand inside his boxers, stroking his cock hard and fast. 

Stan is moaning the filthiest things interspersed with Chris's name, muttering about sucking his cock and licking his ass, and then Stan is crying out, and knowing that Stan has just come all over himself pushes Chris over the edge and he comes all over his hand. 

Then Stan gives a low chuckle, and Chris grins for a moment before realising what he's just done. Shit. He cleans himself up quickly and looks pretty much normal when Mackie returns. Then it's not long until their shift is over, and Chris goes home and falls into bed, asleep pretty much as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

When Chris wakes up the next morning, it's to a loud knock on his door. He goes to answer, and there's a bored looking delivery guy standing there with a bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates. 

"Uh," Chris manages, then shakes his head. "Who are these from?"

The guy shrugs. "Don't know. The order was called in but he didn't give a name."

"What was the name on the credit card?"

"Bucky Barnes." And for fuck's sake, Chris reads comic books so he knows that's clearly a pseud, and he wonders if Stan is a comic book fan. "Can you take these please?"

"Oh, sure," Chris says, taking the flowers and chocolates. 

"Oh hey, look at this," the guy says, leaning down to pick up a parcel wrapped in brown paper, leaning against the door frame. 

"Wait!" Chris says quickly. "Please don't touch that. I work for the FBI and it might be evidence." It might be nothing, but Chris has a hunch. 

The guy backs off. "Okay. Uh, have a good day?"

"You too, man," Chris replied, waving him off. He leaves the door open and goes inside, putting the flowers and chocolates on the table. He sees there's a card with the flowers, with just one word on them: 

_Sorry._

Shaking his head, Chris calls in forensics.

***

His hunch had proved correct: inside the parcel had been the stolen bracelet. Chris was happy now that he hadn't touched it, but there was no evidence on it anyway. Stan was too careful for that. 

The flowers and chocolates had been taken away too to make sure they hadn't been doctored, but Chris knew there was little chance of that. As strange as it seemed, Stan appeared to be hitting on him. And while Chris would have given anything to be able to say yes, that would be a big mistake. Returned bracelet or no, Stan was still a felon, and Chris was the FBI agent who had been tasked to catch him. 

Chris took a minute to ponder when his life had become a cheesy romance novel. 

The others on the team hadn't teased him at all about getting the flowers and chocolates, although he had caught Mackie giving him a knowing look more than once. 

Now that the bracelet had been returned, the operation had been called off. They knew they had no chance of catching Stan now, and their official report said that there was no evidence that he was guilty of anything untoward. 

They all knew different, of course, but there was nothing they could do. 

Weirdly, Chris kind of misses knowing what Sebastian was doing all the time. So he's completely shocked when he goes grocery shopping, and finds Stan waiting for him when he comes back out to his car. He's slouching, in tight jeans and a black tshirt which pretty much show off all his muscles, and sunglasses covering those big blue eyes. 

"Hello, Chris!" Stan greets him. 

"Mr Stan," Chris replies cautiously. 

"I told you. Call me Sebastian. So, uh," Stan clears his throat, looking anywhere but at Chris, "you and your friends haven't been around recently."

"The bracelet was returned so there was no point in keeping you under surveillance," Chris says shortly, unsure whether he should be telling Stan this but finding himself unable to care much. 

"Oh. Well, ain't that grand. Funny how things work out, isn't it?" Stan shoots him a cheeky smile, and Chris feels a ball of want growing in the pit of his stomach. 

"If that's what you want to call it."

"So...if I'm not under investigation any more, you wanna grab dinner? There's a great little Italian place not far from here, we could get some wine, have a romantic meal for two out on the balcony..."

"You're still suspected of being responsible for other thefts. I can't...I can't risk my job for dinner."

"Oh, it would be so much more than dinner, I guarantee that," Stan says, looking at Chris over his sunglasses, and Chris has to stop himself from biting his lip. 

"Regardless."

"Is your job really that important to you? I mean, do you like being an agent?" Stan asks, seeming genuinely curious, and Chris nods. 

"Yeah. I mean, I'm good at it, which helps. I catch bad guys - usually," he adds, giving Stan a pointed look. 

"Hey, I'm not a bad guy! You think I'm a bad guy?" Stan actually looks hurt at that, and Chris has to rush to reassure him. 

"No, not like that. But you are a thief."

"I admit to nothing."

"Very smart. But you see why nothing can ever happen between us?"

Stan sighs. "Honestly? No. And I don't have to like it. I think you're seriously hot, I'm pretty sure you're attracted to me too, and I'd like to get to know you better. I think we could be something pretty fantastic if you'd just get that FBI stick out your ass."

"I don't have..."

"Okay, fine. But I'm not giving up on this. I like you, Chris, and I can tell that underneath that agent exterior and all that 'Mr Stan' bullshit you like me too."

"I don't really know you."

"But you could get to know me. Plus I'm pretty sure the sex would be fantastic. I have the feeling you haven't stopped thinking about what you found in my bedside cabinet," Stan grins, and Chris blushes. It's true. He hasn't. "By the way, you never told me if you liked the show I put on for you."

Chris goes even redder at the memory. "I, uh," he stammers, and Stan smirks. 

"Good. Can you imagine the kind of show I'd put on for you if you were actually in the room instead of just listening?" Stan suddenly gets right up into his space, pressing him up against the car. "So tell me, Chris - do I drive you as crazy as you drive me?" he murmurs against Chris's lips, before leaning in the last few millimetres and oh, fuck. Sebastian knows how to kiss and, even more amazingly, knows how to kiss _him_ ; he's pressing all of Chris's buttons right now as Chris kisses back, and....

Suddenly remembering why this is a bad idea, he pulls back. "Sebastian I...I can't. I'll lose my job."

Chris doesn't miss the triumphant look in Sebastian's eyes and wonders for a moment what it means. "So come live with me. I make enough money for both of us."

"And be, what, your kept man?"

"Be my boyfriend. Be with me."

"I can't. I'm sorry."

Sebastian sighs and pulls away. As he walks off, he calls back over his shoulder, "We could have something great, Chris! Remember that."

Chris watches Sebastian walk away, suddenly wondering when he had become "Sebastian" rather than "Stan". He climbs into his car and drives home, muttering "stupid, stupid" to himself. 

***

It's three am, and Chris is woken by his phone ringing insistently.

He grabs it and answers, "H'lo?" still half asleep, until he hears the panicked voice on the other end of the line. 

"Chris? Oh my god, Chris, you have to help me."

"Wait, Sebastian? Is that you?"

"Chris, shit, I'm in my apartment and I think they're coming for me. I knew I should've gotten an apartment with a panic room!"

"Sebastian, calm down. Who's after you?"

"Hemsworth and his cronies. They...fuck, Chris, I reneged, don't you get it? I had a job to do and I didn't come through and now I'm pretty sure they're going to kill me."

The bracelet. Of course. Chris should have thought of this. He jumps out of bed and starts pulling on clothes. "Sebastian, can you get out of there without them seeing you?"

"No, they've got people everywhere, I can see them from my windows."

"Shit. Okay. Sit tight, I'm going to call in reinforcements and I'm coming to get you."

"Chris, hurry?"

"I will. I won't let anything happen to you," he says sincerely, suddenly realising how much he's come to care for the thief. If something happens to Sebastian... But he puts that to the back of his mind. "I have to go now so I can call my team but I'll be there soon, okay?"

"Okay."

Chris ends the call and runs for the door, grabbing his keys, badge and gun on the way. He dials Mackie quickly, and he picks up on the third ring. 

"Evans, what the hell?"

"Hemsworth and his team are after Se-Stan. I'm heading there now. I need you to call the rest of the team and you all need to meet me at his apartment."

"Fuck. Why are they after him?"

"He returned the bracelet, didn't he?" Chris says as he climbs into his car. "Okay I gotta go but just get your ass over there, okay?"

"Gotcha. On my way."

Chris ends the call and speeds off into the night, praying that he's not going to be too late. 

When he gets to Sebastian's apartment building he parks outside, before putting his bulletproof vest on underneath his FBI jacket. He runs upstairs to Sebastian's apartment, but there's no reply when he knocks. He tries the door and it opens easily, and Chris can see now that it's been forced open. He draws his gun and steps inside cautiously, looking around, but the place is empty. Worryingly, there is a small bloodstain on the carpet, and Chris hopes that whatever they've done to Sebastian isn't too serious. If they've hurt him he'll kill them. 

He hears a noise behind him and whirls around, but it's only his team. 

"Evans, what the hell is going on?" Downey asks, and Chris is trying so hard not to panic. 

"Hemsworth and his friends have Sebastian. He called me asking for help because they're pissed at him for going back on their deal about the bracelet. But it looks like they've been and gone. Shit."

Johansson gives him a funny look. "'Sebastian'? Not Stan?"

"What the fuck does it matter?" Chris asks sharply. "He's gone, he's been taken and it's..." _all my fault_ he nearly says, but stops himself in time. "We have to help him. We can't let someone get murdered on our watch."

The others exchange glances, then Mackie steps forward. "That's true. So we make some phone calls, figure out where Hemsworth might have taken him."

"Okay," Chris agrees, trying to calm himself down enough so that he doesn't start shaking. 

He waits the agonising few minutes for the others to make some calls, then Ruffalo approaches him. "Hemsworth has a place downtown, but apparently he also rents a warehouse down at the docks under a shell corporation."

Chris feels sick. "That's where they are. I'd put money on it."

"Evans, I'm pretty sure this is bigger than just our team," Ruffalo says, and Chris nods. 

"Agreed. We'll have a quick look when we get there and if it looks too much for us to handle you call in the SWAT team."

"Me? What will you be doing?"

"Probably something incredibly stupid," Chris shrugs. "Come on. We've got to leave now before they decide to kill him."

 _If they haven't already,_ he thinks but doesn't say, although he knows everyone is having the same thought. 

***

It's eerily quiet at the warehouses down at the docks, but there are five four-by-fours parked outside Hemsworth's warehouse. Renner, who can climb like a cat, gets up on the roof of the neighbouring warehouse and looks in one of the high windows. When he comes back down to report, his face is grim.

"There's at least 20 of them that I can see. Stan is tied to a chair in the middle of the room. It looks like he's still alive, though," he adds, looking straight at Chris. 

Chris heaves a deep breath and nods. "Okay. You guys call in the SWAT team. I'm going to do what I can to distract them from killing him."

"Evans..." Johansson looks at him for a long moment, biting her lip, before nodding. "Just be careful, all right?"

"I always am," he grins, before heading towards the warehouse. 

He sneaks in through the door, behind a couple of guys who are watching what's going on in the centre of the room instead of actually doing their job, which makes things easier for Chris. 

As he creeps closer to where Sebastian is tied up, he can hear Hemsworth talking. 

"So you see, Sebastian, after all that work, and all that time spent drumming up interest, and all that money I was promised, you don't come through for me. That's bad for my business, Sebastian. People start to think they can't trust me to make good on a deal. And if they can't trust me, they don't come to me, and no one wants to do business with me. Then I start losing money, and you know how much I hate that."

Hemsworth approaches Sebastian, who raises his head, and Chris feels sick to his stomach when he sees Sebastian's face. They've done a number on him already, and Chris watches helplessly as Hemsworth grabs his face before punching him. Sebastian's expression doesn't change from the bored look he's sporting, and he leans over and spits to one side. Chris can see even from here that he's spitting out blood. 

"You say you've not got it any more," Hemsworth continues, "but I don't believe that. Why would you steal it just to give it away? I know you haven't given it to another fence for a better price. I've asked around and everyone denies it. So where...have...you...got it?" 

"Fuck you," Sebastian says clearly. 

"Are you shitting me right now Sebastian? If you don't give me that goddamn bracelet you are going to die. Do you not understand this?"

"And I told you I don't have it. I gave it to the fucking FBI, okay?"

Hemsworth stops and stares at Sebastian, looking absolutely gobsmacked. "What the hell...why would you do a fucking stupid thing like that?"

Sebastian shrugs. "I'm thinking about retiring. They were on to me so I thought I'd make life a bit easier for myself so they weren't on my damn back all the time."

"You actually gave it to the Feds? Are you fucking kidding me?" Hemsworth is pretty much screaming now, and he starts to raise his gun to Sebastian's head...

"Wait!" Chris shouts, and Hemsworth - along with all of his men - look round. "Uh. FBI?"

"You don't sound so sure about that," Hemsworth laughs. "What, did you come here by yourself?"

"So what if I did? You have to let him go now."

"Now why would I do something like that? He crossed me, Mr FBI, and I don't like to be crossed."

 _Just keep him talking,_ Chris thinks. "And what if I told you we have this building surrounded?"

Hemsworth laughs. "I very much doubt it. You wouldn't have come in here alone if it was true. Oh well. I guess there's going to be one less FBI agent in the world after tonight." And before Chris can react, Hemsworth raises his gun and shoots Chris three times in the chest. Chris falls backwards, hitting his head on the concrete floor, and the last thing he hears before everything goes black is Sebastian screaming his name. 

***

When Chris comes to its to a bright light shining in his eyes. He swats at it feebly, before someone says, "Agent Evans? Chris, can you hear me?"

"I can hear you," he groans. "But everything hurts." His head is aching and his chest feels like one big bruise. 

"You were shot in your vest and you damn near split your head open on a concrete floor, Evans, so no wonder," says another voice, and Chris looks up blearily to see AD Jackson standing above him, looking grim. 

"Sir?"

"You're in hospital, Evans. Apparently your head isn't as hard as we'd all been lead to believe. We'll have a talk when you're feeling better about exactly what the hell you were thinking going in there alone," Jackson growls, "but good news is we have both Stan and Hemsworth in custody, and Stan is willing to cooperate as long as he gets a good deal. With the amount of information he's giving us we're pretty sure we can make it so he avoids any jail time." And oh god, Jackson's look is too knowing for Chris's comfort. 

"That good, huh?"

"He seems to have information about a lot of fences that we've been chasing for years so yeah, that good. He seemed pretty worried about you, and he refused to be taken away until he knew you were okay."

"Huh," is all Chris dares to say, and Jackson sighs. 

"Good news is you don't seem to have done yourself any lasting damage. You're gonna be bruised as hell for a week at least, and you might have a concussion, but aside from that..."

"Excuse me, but he doesn't have a concussion," says the person who had been shining the light in his eyes, who Chris quickly realises is a doctor. "We're going to keep an eye on you today since you were out for a while but you should be fine to go home tonight."

Chris heaves a sigh of relief. He's never been a fan of hospitals. 

"Take a few days off," Jackson says, but Chris shakes his head. 

"No, thank you, sir. I'd like to see this thing through to the end of you don't mind."

Jackson looks amused, like he knows what Chris is really thinking, but he doesn't call him on it. "Okay, well, I'll see you tomorrow then. Bright and early as usual, Evans."

He leaves the room and the doctor gives him a look. "Taking some time off might not be such a bad idea," she says, and Chris shrugs. 

"Maybe, but I've never been good at avoiding bad ideas."

The doctor laughs. "Okay, well, it's your choice, Mr Evans." She grabs her clipboard and smiles at him. "I'll be back in to check on you in a couple of hours. In the meantime, try and get some sleep, okay?"

Chris nods, already half way there, before falling into a dreamless slumber. 

***

As promised, the hospital lets him go that night, and the next day when he shows up for work his team surround him, asking how he's doing. 

"I'm fine, honestly."

"Your boy is in interview room four," Mackie says, and Chris nods, using all his willpower not to just run straight to him. 

"Okay," he replies. "Uh, I'm gonna go get a coffee."

They all look at him knowingly, and he escapes towards the interview rooms. 

As he enters room four, Sebastian looks up, shock on his face when he sees who it is. 

"Oh my god, Chris, are you okay?" he asks, making as if to get up. But he's cuffed to the chair so he sits back down again, frowning. 

"I'm fine. You all right? Did you get any medical attention?"

"I...did _I_? You were taken to the hospital! Jesus, Chris, when I called you I didn't expect you to risk your life for me!"

"I was hardly risking my life. I wore a vest," Chris says, but it sounds weak even to his ears. 

"And if he'd shot you in the head?"

Chris shrugs. "Then at least I'd have bought the SWAT team enough time to get there to save you."

Sebastian stares at him for a moment, before laughing. "You are completely insane, do you know that?"

"I'm not, I just...care about what happens to you. Care about you," he finishes in a near whisper, and Sebastian's expression softens. 

"You've got a hell of a dramatic way of showing it. Asshole."

"So I hear you're trying to get a deal?"

"Uh, yeah. Planning on trying the straight and narrow for a while, see how that does. I'm hoping that people who use me as a consultant will accept the 'assisting the FBI with their investigation' thing without asking too many questions. If I get the deal."

"Why did you do it anyway?"

"What?"

"International jewel thief. How do you even become one of those?"

Sebastian's grin turns wicked. "Oh, you think you're gonna get all my secrets out of me? I'll tell you one day. Maybe over dinner?" He looks nervously hopeful, despite his cocky tone, and Chris can't help but smile. 

"I'd like that," he replied, before looking at his watch. "Anyway, I'd better go back to work but, uh. Good luck and...yeah."

"I'll call you if I ever get out of here."

"Yeah, do that."

Chris gets up and leaves, hating that he can't just go over and kiss him. But the cameras are watching, so he just shoots Sebastian a small smile as he closes the door. 

Before he leaves for the evening, Jackson calls him into his office. "We've decided to offer Stan the deal, so he won't serve any jail time. He's already giving an agent names and details of everyone he knows in the business."

"Thanks for letting me know," Chris says, relief crashing over him like a wave. 

"I hope you know what you're doing," Jackson adds, and Chris freezes, looking at Jackson like a deer in headlights. Jackson just rolls his eyes. "Go on, Evans. Get out of my sight."

Chris does as he's told, grabs his stuff and goes home for a shower and a good long sleep. 

***

Friday nights were always good when there were no active cases. Chris hates working weekends, but it's the nature of the job, so he's used to it by now. Still, it's nice when he doesn't have to. 

He switches on the TV and opens his beer, taking a long drink. As he puts the beer down on the coffee table his phone rings with a number he doesn't recognise. 

"Hello?"

"Chris? It's Sebastian."

Chris's eyes widen. "Hey! How are you doing?"

"I'm good. Bruises are starting to heal so I should be back to my pretty self in no time." There's a short silence which isn't wholly uncomfortable, before Sebastian continues, "So, uh. I was wondering if you would let me cook you dinner? To say thank you for saving my worthless hide and all."

Chris smiles. "Dinner would be great. When?"

"You busy tomorrow night?"

"Nope. Free all weekend."

"So, say tomorrow at seven? You already know where my apartment is, I guess."

Chris laughs. "Yeah, I have an idea. Tomorrow at seven sounds good. Should I bring anything?"

"Just bring yourself and it's all good."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"See you tomorrow, Chris."

Chris hangs up, suddenly nervous. He's going to have dinner with an ex international jewel thief. Who might want to be his boyfriend. His life is so weird. 

The next evening Chris stresses for about an hour on what to wear, before putting on a white button down shirt and his jeans. He thought he looked good, but pretty casual, which he figured was appropriate. 

He arrives at Sebastian's apartment at five to seven, and knocks on the door. Sebastian answers in a black shirt, black slacks and bare feet, and Chris bites back a groan at how good he looks, despite the bruises covering his face. His hair is artfully mussed and Chris wants to run his fingers through it. 

"Uh, hey," he says, a little awkwardly. 

"Hey! Um. Come in!" Chris follows Sebastian inside, through to the living room, where they sit together on opposite sides of the sofa. "I thought we'd eat in about half an hour? Give us time to talk or whatever."

Chris nods. "Sounds good to me."

The sit there, the silence stretching into awkwardness, then they look at each other and Chris isn't sure who moves first but they meet in the middle of the sofa and they're kissing, messy, wet and passionate. 

"Fuck I've wanted to do this since I first saw you," Sebastian manages between kisses, and Chris responds by kissing him harder, opening his mouth to Sebastian's tongue and oh fuck. Their kisses are getting him hotter and hotter, like he's going to go supernova, and then Sebastian is pressing his hand against Chris's hardening cock and he's moaning into the kiss. 

"Okay, bedroom now," Sebastian gasps, pulling back, and Chris laughs. 

"What about dinner?"

"Shit. Uh, hold on." Sebastian runs through to the kitchen, before coming back through a few minutes later. "I just took it out of the oven. It's just a pasta bake, we can cook it later, but I need you now."

Chris nods and lets Sebastian lead him through to the bedroom. Once there, they strip off quickly and then, when they're completely naked, Sebastian grabs him and pulls him in for a deep kiss. Their hard cocks are rubbing together as they move, and Chris can't get enough. 

"Want to use those toys you found?" Sebastian murmurs against his lips, and Chris nods. 

"Want to see you in those nipple clamps, fuck, Sebastian," and Sebastian nods, going over to get them. His nipples are already hard, and he clips them on, gasping as each one goes on. 

"What now? Want me to suck you?"

"Oh fuck yes," Chris manages, and Sebastian laughs hoarsely. 

"Okay, on the bed then." Chris does as he's told, laying in the middle of the big double bed. Sebastian crawls on after him, and Chris pulls gently on the chain connecting the clamps, making Sebastian moan. 

Sebastian kisses him roughly, then slides down the bed and licks a stripe up Chris's cock. Chris's hips come up off the bed at the sensation of Sebastian's rough tongue against his sensitive skin, and Sebastian grins as he leans down and sucks the head of Chris's cock into his mouth. He starts jerking the base of Chris's cock as he bobs his head, getting into a rhythm that makes Chris's eyes want to roll back in his head. 

Sebastian brings his other hand down to play with Chris's balls, and it's too much all at once, and Chris cries out, "Stop, fuck, stop, Sebastian."

Sebastian lets Chris's cock fall out of his mouth with a wet pop. "Why?"

"Because if you don't this will all be over really quickly," Chris says with a laugh, and Sebastian grins at him. 

"Well we don't want that." He crawls up the bed to kiss Chris and Chris can taste himself on Sebastian's tongue. "Want you to fuck me, Chris," he says, and Chris nods. 

Sebastian grabs lube and a condom from the bedside cabinet and passes them to Chris, who leans in for another kiss. 

"Turn over?" he asks and Sebastian nods and does as he's asked. 

Chris lays the lube and condom on the bed beside him, and pulls Sebastian's hips back so he's up on all fours. When Sebastian complies, Chris smiles, pulling Sebastian's ass cheeks apart before leaning in and licking up from Sebastian's taint up to his asshole. Sebastian moans and pushes back against Chris's face as Chris licks and nips around his hole, then starts to push his tongue past the tight muscle. 

Sebastian is panting into the pillow, babbling nonsense as Chris tonguefucks him. Chris can feel his cock leaking onto the sheets and he's so turned on that he can barely concentrate on what he's doing, but he just wants to get Sebastian to make more of these noises so he keeps going for a few more minutes. His tongue is starting to get tired so he pulls back, grinning at Sebastian's whine, and slicks up his fingers. 

He teases around Sebastian's asshole for a few moments until Sebastian is begging, then presses in a finger. He fingers Sebastian slowly, kissing up the knobs of his spine before adding a second finger and stretching him further. He crooks his fingers, looking for that spot inside Sebastian and knows he's found it when Sebastian cries out loudly. He adds a third finger, still trying to hit that spot with every thrust of his fingers, until Sebastian gasps out, "Fuck, Chris, I'm ready. Just fuck me."

"Roll over," Chris says. "Want to see you." And Sebastian does, grabbing a pillow for under his hips. 

Then Chris is rolling on the condom and spreading the lube over his cock, before pushing in slowly to the tight heat of Sebastian's ass. He watches the expressions flit across Sebastian's face: discomfort, wonder, and finally joy. 

"Move," Sebastian tells him, so he does, starting slowly before picking up the rhythm. He shifts his hips slightly and then Sebastian is crying out, moving with him, his hand on his own cock and it's so fucking good that Chris could weep. It feels like they've been waiting forever for this moment, even though it's not even been that long since they met, but Chris feels connected to Sebastian in a way he's never felt before. 

He tugs gently again at the chain connecting the clamps before unpinning them and flicking one of his nipples. Then Sebastian is groaning out his name as he comes across his stomach, his muscles squeezing Chris's cock and that's enough to make him come hard, cock pulsing inside Sebastian. They lay like that for a few moments, trying to catch their breath, before Chris pulls out slowly, leaning down to kiss Sebastian gently as he does so. He takes off the condom and looks questioningly at Sebastian, who gestures over to his right where Chris suddenly notices a waste paper basket. 

He throws the condom away then turns to lay on the bed next to Sebastian. He immediately snuggles into Chris's side, head on his chest and hand drawing lazy patterns on his stomach. It tickles a little and Chris squirms, making Sebastian laugh. 

"This is all I've wanted since I met you," Sebastian sighs happily. "And what about you?" he asks, dropping a kiss onto Chris's chest. "Is it all that you imagined?"

"No," Chris replies, kissing the top of Sebastian's head. "It's better."

They lay in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, but it's a comfortable silence for all that. 

"So where do we go from here?" Chris asks at length. 

"Stay. Stay with me," Sebastian replies and yeah. Chris is pretty sure he can do that.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure an apology is due to Chris H because I'm sure he's a genuinely lovely guy but like, I needed a villain and "Codename Thor" was too good an opportunity to pass up. 
> 
> Follow me on tumblr at velvetjinx for more fandom hijinks and like a million reblogs of Sebastian Stan photos!


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